Sign love on the line
by TheCrowMaiden
Summary: An Alternate Universe  AU  Roderich and Elizaveta fanfic. Chapters! Ages: early twenties. No smut, hinted boy love  included for a friend . Gilbert as a regular character.
1. Chapter 1

Elizaveta crossed her fingers hopefully as the truck jerked to a halt, the wheels grinding as Gilbert unmercifully slammed it into park with his foot barely off the gas. The young woman was used to such reckless driving though, and hopped out as soon as it came to a stop. Pulling the back hatch up, she started unloading the boxes and occasional bag onto the curb. She'd been working with the supply delivery for about six months, and she had to admit that is was a really good job. With her leather gloves jammed carelessly into the back pocket of her teal-blue canvas pants, she worked swiftly, and had the shipment out of the truck in minutes. Leaning casually against the biggest box, she waited for Gilbert to get the invoices initialled. While she didn't mind getting the boxes _out_ on her own, carrying them into the pastry shop was a different matter entirely. It wasn't _hard_ to lift the fifty-five-pound bags of flour, but her boss had warned her that if she did hurt herself carrying them on her own, she wouldn't be covered under the company insurance.

Propping her elbows up, Elizaveta craned her neck to see if she could see the front counter of the shop. There were two reasons why the _Topfenstrudel_ was her favourite stop of the day. One, it always had the heaviest purchases which gave her a chance to prove to Gilbert she was stronger than him, and number two, it had Roderich, junior pastry maker and general clerk of one of the busiest sweet-shops in the city.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the young man she was thinking of walked out the back door. Patches of flour and dough smudged his deep blue apron, and a matching dusting of flour was on his cheek. His smile for her was warm, albeit a bit reserved. He really wasn't the type of person who seemed to show exuberant emotions. Stopping a few feet away, he pulled a cloth from his apron and wiped at his hands.

"Good morning, Eliza. Do you have the closing shift today?"

Blushing faintly, she straightened up and tucked her hair back behind her ear. "Hey Roderich. Yeah, I'm closing this time. What about you? Did you open today?"

Roderich nodded, and firmly gripped one of the flour sacks. "This is my third time opening this week, actually. And your Gilbert is…Chatting up one of our regular customers, so I thought I would help you with these."

"Oh!" Elizaveta's blush increased, and she moved quickly to pick up the other end of the bag. "Thank you."

"It's perfectly fine. I need to get them inside regardless."

Talking amiably, the two of them got everything into the shops storeroom. Collecting the invoices from the back counter, Elizaveta waved goodbye to Roderich, who smiled and waved back before turning his attention to his work. Using the little half-door by the display case to get to the front of the shop, Elizaveta also collected Gilbert, dragging him away from the tall blond man he was flirting with by the collar of his navy-blue coveralls.

The rest of her shift passed slowly, and she tried not to look _too_ happy when she was finally able to sign off and go home. Pulling her jacket from her locker she contemplated it briefly, and shrugged it on. It wasn't cold for October, but her bus didn't come for another fifteen minutes, and the breeze could be a bit chilly. Staring sleepily out the window on her twenty-five minute commute home, Elizaveta had to squash the urge to hug herself with glee. That afternoon had been the first time she'd been able to properly talk with Roderich in _weeks_. It was difficult to have any sort of conversation when your job consisted of dropping off the boxes and getting to the next destination as soon as possible. And even when she did have time, he was usually too busy dealing with the multitudes of customers who swarmed the shop for its well known selection of European sweets.

The whole situation made being in love unfairly hard.

Not that she really expected him to reciprocate or anything. He just didn't -not- like her, that was all. He was only being nice when he asked about her day or when she was going to be on shift next. After all, guys didn't want girls who were strong and capable and routinely out-muscled their full grown _male_ coworkers. Guys wanted…Womanly women. Not tomboys like her. Unlocking the door of her tiny apartment, Elizaveta considered an idea that lingered at the edge of her moping. Just because she couldn't be girly didn't mean she couldn't be feminine… She could start tomorrow and buy some facial cleansers before her shift even. It wouldn't hurt to start exfoliating, and a nice haircut wouldn't go amiss either. The more she thought about it, the more she began to think that she might have started using 'liking yourself as you are' as an excuse to not care about what she looked liked _at_ _all_. Well, she was going to fix that. And fix it as soon as possible too.

Over the next few weeks she re-worked her appearance, and though the change was subtle, she felt a whole new confidence in herself. The only thing that was completely obvious was the orange flower barrette she had taken to fastening behind her ear. But even it was unnoticed by many, since her long, light brown hair often concealed it. Still, there was something about wearing it that appealed to her, so she wore it regardless.

November slipped into December, and Elizaveta's initial elation at being comfortably more feminine faded. Her only interactions with Roderich were brief, and usually nothing more than a quick smile and wave. And since he was usually in the back of the shop as she passed, she figured he couldn't be close enough to appreciate her new look. It was extremely disheartening, and as Christmas time drew near, even these quick glimpses ended, due to the overwhelming amount of work they both had to accomplish.

December 24th. Elizaveta glared at her alarm clock and its dim red digits, wishing that it would somehow be possible to fast forward through the day. Because all the stores they delivered to were closed Christmas day, today was guaranteed to be the most disgustingly busy day of the year. Groaning, she half-fell from her bed and staggered to the washroom. They were going to try to have all shipments dropped off by noon, which meant she had to be up at the unholy time of four o'clock in the morning. Her shift only started at five-thirty, but she knew she wouldn't survive the day without a good hot shower and a decent breakfast, and it took a good hour to have both.

Shuffling out her door a few minutes after five, she glanced out the hall window and literally felt her spirits plummet even further. It was snowing. Heavily. Gilbert hated driving in the snow, and she hated unloading in it. It looked like it was going to be a _long_ day.

Her hunch unfortunately proved correct, and by the time eleven o'clock rolled around, she was near tears. _Everyone_ was miserable. Three out of the last four shops they'd delivered to had yelled at her for being late, and neither she nor Gilbert could feel their fingertips from the cold. Seeing that _Topfenstrudel_ was their next stop only caused her melancholy to grow. As much as she wanted to give the small card she'd picked out to Roderich in person, she knew she would have to leave it somewhere, and hope he would find it.

_SCFRNNNCH_!

The truck stopped with an abrupt crunch, causing Gilbert to swear colourfully. Jumping out, he looked to see what the problem was, and swore again.

"'Liz! 'Liz, you won't believe this! There's a goddamn snowdrift that's taller than the f*cking bumper! I'll park a few feet forward, you'll have to just throw the stuff on the ground and drag it around."

Muttering, the white-haired man adjusted the truck, and helped Elizaveta open the cold-stiffened back doors. "You've got to handle this for me. I told West I'd see him today, and someone like me is too awesome to be made a liar!"

Throat tight with contained temper, she began unloading as fast as she could. As much as she hated being left on her own, she didn't have it in her to deny Gil the chance to see his almost-boyfriend. It had taken a while to get him to admit he was serious about that blond customer he was always flirting with, and she didn't want to spoil what was kind of their first Christmas.

Dragging the four boxes into the back storeroom, Elizaveta dumped them in a corner moodily. All she needed to do now was wait for the manager to give her the signed sheets that Gil brought around the front. Right on cue, she saw an arm reach around the doorframe and shove the slips onto their usual counter. It must be busier than she'd thought if the manager couldn't even spare the time to come through the door entirely. Crossing the storeroom in a few strides, she gathered up the papers and turned to leave.

But as she'd grabbed them, a glint of something bright had caught her eye, and she stopped. A little box was on the counter, festively wrapped in green paper and topped with a gold bow. The tag, tied just below the bow, was flipped the wrong way around. Without even thinking about it, she turned it so it was facing the right way.

_For Elizaveta, Merry Christmas._

_p.s, keep it in the fridge._

_-R_

Elizaveta could swear her heart stopped beating for a minute, even as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She couldn't believe it. He'd gotten her a present. Her. Roderich had gotten _her_ a present. Did he get everyone a gift? Or…Or was she special? The sudden blaring of a horn jolted her back to her senses, and she fumbled in her shirt with one hand for the card, and put it on the counter, even as she grabbed her box with the other. She walked back to the truck as quickly as she dared, and clambered into her seat.

"What the hell took you, woman!" snapped Gilbert, glaring at her as he slammed the gearshift into drive.

"None of your business, jerk!" she retorted, glaring right back.

Since the _Topfenstrudel_ had been their last stop, they drove back towards the warehouse, neither of them saying anything. She was too preoccupied with the precious box held protectively on her lap; he was too annoyed at having been made to wait.

Pulling into the loading bay, the truck rumbled as the engine wound down. Elizaveta, in her haste to get out so she could head home, almost fell on her face. Too happy to be embarrassed, she managed to get both feet firmly planted on the ground after a bit of a wobbling. Right before she slammed the door shut, she was stopped by Gilbert leaning over and tugging her hair.

"Have a great Christmas 'Liz!"

Batting his hand away from her hair, she raised her eyebrows at his unexpected solicitude, even as she started walking to the stairs. "Thanks. You too, I guess."

He grinned, and shut the door. "Of course I will," he called through the window after her, "its always great if _I'm_ there!"

Shaking her head, she walked to her bus stop, still gently holding her unexpected gift close to her chest. Elizaveta was looking forward to Christmas morning now, for the first time in many years. Because even if the box turned out to be empty, the thought of it alone ensured that this was going to be the best Christmas ever.


	2. Chapter 2

_Beepbeepbeepbeep!_

Elizaveta sat up with a start, masses of sleep-tangled hair falling into her eyes. Leaning over as far as she could without falling out of her bed, she groped blindly for the alarm clock and managed to smack the off button. The incessant beeping ended, to be replaced with the slightly static-blurred sound of the radio. As the gentle notes of 'Ave Maria' filtered through her room, a smile of barely contained joy spread over her face. It was Christmas!

With a huge yawn, she got up, and pulled her flannel bathrobe on over her t-shirt and shorts. She never put the thermostat up in the winter, she liked it cooler. Also, doing so saved her money, and it wasn't hard to put on some extra socks or a sweater if she got too cold. Humming happily, she made her bed, tidied her room, and then made her way to the front of the apartment to open the curtains. Once that was done she went to the kitchen, rolled back her sleeves and started fishing ingredients out of her cupboard. As far as Elizaveta was concerned, it just wasn't Christmas without a giant breakfast of pancakes and eggnog.

After her overload of carbohydrates and sugar, she turned on the stereo and started on the dishes. She always made such a mess when she cooked that if she didn't wash up right away, she'd run out of dishes before suppertime. But she didn't mind. She liked to have her hands submersed in the hot water, liked to hear nothing but the music and the clink of the plates. There was just something so peaceful about housework, even if she did occasionally catch herself drawing _someone's_ distinctive hair curl in the soapsuds.

Drying her hands on a towel, Elizaveta put the last of the cutlery away in the drawer, leaving the assorted bowls to drain in the rack. She wiped down the counters, and finally, finally, it was time to open her present. She took it from the fridge, and placed it gently on the table. With painstakingly careful movements, she untied the ribbon and pulled he paper off without tearing it so much as once. Folding the wrappings neatly, she set them aside so they wouldn't get damaged. Then, she took a deep breath and timidly opened the flap of the standard small white pastry box.

Nestled snugly inside was a mocha torte, frosted with light brown chocolate whip cream. Hopeful warmth blossomed in her chest, because this cake was not something that he could have just bought from the shop. She knew from experience that a torte was both time consuming and difficult to make properly, and yet he had made one up special for her. There was no denying it. It was square when most were round, it was larger, and on the top was a _very_ distinctly (and familiarly) shaped orange flower.

It would seem that Roderich had noticed her new accessory after all.

Clapping her hands joyfully, she leapt up and twirled a couple times, unable to think of any other way to express what she felt. Not only was she in love, but she was in love with someone who, she dared to think, liked her too! There really was no greater feeling in the entire world, not that she would admit _that_ out loud. She giggled, and stopped mid-twirl. If Gilbert could see her now, he would undoubtedly say that she was acting like a _girl_. Not to mention that he'd kill himself laughing. Elizaveta considered it briefly, then shrugged and resumed twirling. If Gilbert _had_ somehow managed to shimmy up the drainpipe, he could go ahead and look. It was Christmas, she was young, happy, pleasantly buzzed on eggnog, and has a cast-iron frying pan with his name on it.

Elizaveta spent the rest of the day doing all the little chores and tasks she'd been putting off throughout the month. With the television quietly playing all the usual Christmas specials in the background, she patched and hemmed her work clothes, vacuumed, dusted, and changed the burned out light bulb in the hall. She even dug out her toolkit and, with a bit of tenacity and swearing, managed to replace the stripped faucet stem in her bathtub.

After a quick shower, all there was left to do was prepare a small supper and go to bed. So she made herself a couple sandwiches and had half her torte for dessert, savouring every bite she took of the incredibly well made cake. With a happy sigh, she put the last of it back in the fridge, tidied up, and turned off the light. She didn't think she'd be able to sleep, considering how much she was looking forward to the chance to see Roderich tomorrow, but by the time she'd crawled into bed and pulled the covers up, she barely had time to set her alarm before she dozed off, a content, peaceful smile on her face, and _his_ face in her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

"So did you enjoy spending your holiday alone, 'Liz? 'Cause me and West had a great time together. You know, as in with each other. And I mean great as in _really_ great. You really should have joined us for a son-of-a-b*tch-ow!"

Elizaveta gave Gilbert her most dangerous look as she stomped on his foot, effectively distracting him before he could say anything really lewd. Grinning at his look of extreme discomfort, she ground her heel down as hard as she could.

"Yeah, I did actually. Especially because of the total absence of a certain white-haired moron."

Gilbert made a face, shoving her aside and gingerly shaking the foot that she'd stepped on. "Jeez, you gotta lighten up or something. I mean, f*ck, are you still carrying a grudge from the _one_ _time_ I dropped a box on little Roddy's hand or what? Your fairy princess needs to toughen up anyway!"

The young woman just stuck her tongue out and climbed into the truck, unwilling to let her foul-mouthed argumentative co-worker spoil her mood. With a few more choice profanities, he followed suit. They often fought or argued or swore at each other. But they got along amazingly well all the same, because there was something about mutual dislike that made everything simpler. It was most likely because you always knew exactly where you stood with the person, and didn't have to worry about the awkwardness that would arise if they liked you but you couldn't stand them.

Cranking the volume on the radio, Gilbert sang along to the German punk-rock, one hand gripping the steering wheel, the other tapping out the beat. For all his apparent nonchalance, Elizaveta knew he watched the road like an eagle, and could manoeuvre the heavy truck better than most people could drive a normal car. There was no arguing that he was an asshole, but he would never risk his own or someone else' life with something as stupid as reckless driving. Same as he would never work drunk, no matter how much he loved his beer. It was the main reason she had stuck with him as her partner. No one made her feel safer on the job than him.

"So, 'Liz, you need to do me a favour," he said abruptly, eyes never leaving the road, "since _Topfenstrudel'_s our last stop today and all. West said he'd come over to my place so I was going to get him to ride back with me 'cause I live by the warehouse."

"And?"

"And, we only got one seat, idiot. Which means you get to find your own way home from the shop instead of coming back with me."

"What? What the heck makes you think I'm going to agree to something like that?"

"Face it 'Liz, I've got a boyfriend because I'm awesome, and awesome people don't need to have lesser people agree or any crap like that. You can either let this be a favour that I'll pay back someday or you can get locked out of the truck. Your pick."

Fuming, Elizaveta spat out "Fine, favour then." from between clenched teeth. Leave it to Gilbert to totally ruin her plans! She'd hoped to try and hang around after they unloaded to get a chance to talk to Roderich if he was in, but if she was going to have to bus her way home from a strange area she wouldn't have time! She'd be lucky if there even _was_ a bus in the area. What if she had to walk back to the highway? She saw her evening being spent on a multitude of strange buses, as drivers treated her like dirt for asking questions, and cursed Gilbert.

The rest of the day passed in strained silence, Gilbert being well aware that a wrong word to her at this point could cost him his head and/or vital organs. He was rash, young, and full of himself, but he wasn't _that_ stupid. Very few men were idiotic enough to taunt an enraged woman, especially one with as good of aim as her. Still, he couldn't help smirking to himself. Being the sole owner of the truck keys was quite the advantage.

When they finally got to the pastry shop, Elizaveta waited until Gilbert came up behind her to help unload, and made a point of elbowing him in the gut when she opened the back doors forcefully, inwardly cheering at his look of pained surprise. It would never do for him to think that he could get away with manipulating her without consequences.

As they began to work, a tall, well-built blond man came over and stood off to the side, watching them intently. Elizaveta was suspicious of the stranger's motives at first. Not many people could have a good reason to observe a delivery truck, after all. But, then, she realized that the young man wasn't watching them both. He wasn't watching _her_ at all. He also looked oddly familiar. Gilbert noticed him around the same time, and immediately threw himself at the man with a yell of "West!" practically tackling him.

After mercilessly kissing him and mussing the man's carefully gelled hair, Gilbert brought him over to her to be introduced. Elizaveta was surprised to find that West was not only a man of few words, but rather shy as well. Not what she had envisioned for the man to have captured loud-mouth pervert Gil's interest. He even apologized to her for causing her an inconvenience, and offered to pay for her to take a cab. It was hard to stay mad when faced with such sincerity and politeness, and she ended up telling him it was no problem at all, the cab would be too expensive but thanks, and even managed to smile and wave as they drove away.

Sighing as the truck turned the corner, she looked around. It didn't look like there was a bus stop in the little complex where the _Topfenstrudel_ was situated. The streets were just too narrow, and there were no signs or anything, so she figured she'd just make her way back to the main drag. It was going to be a long walk though, and the snow on the sidewalks wasn't going to make it any easier. Still, she had no other choice, so she buttoned her coat and started walking.

"Eliza, Eliza! Please wait a moment!"

Until that point, nothing in the world could have convinced her that being forced to find her way home from a strange area in the middle of winter could have been considered a fortuitous event, but the sight of Roderich, in normal clothing, walking toward her changed her mind. Instantly.

Slightly flushed from the cold, he stopped next to her and nodded toward the street. "Would you happen to be waiting for a ride today?"

"No." She stuffed her hands in her pockets nervously, "I'm actually trying to find a bus. I need to get to the downtown main station, but I don't know this area."

It might have been her imagination, but he seemed to brighten up at her statement. He looked down at his shoes immediately after though, so she couldn't be sure.

"I know this area very well. If you wouldn't mind, I would be glad to walk you to the nearest stop. It will take twenty minutes to get there, but the bus will travel straight to the station you need."

"R-Really? I wouldn't mind at all, thank you so much!"

Gilbert's abandoning her was immediately forgiven. She was going on a twenty minute walk with Roderich, to a bus that would take her straight home! Life couldn't get better than that! She was so delighted that she forgot to watch her footing in the snow and slipped, nearly falling into the dirty gray pile of slush at the edge of the road. But before she could even try to right herself, someone's large, warm hand gripped her by the upper arm and steadied her.

"Careful. You should hold onto me, Eliza. It's really quite icy along this stretch; I don't want you to get hurt."

She stood corrected. Life _could_ get better.

Elizaveta was grateful that she could blame her blush on the cold if needed, and shyly tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. Even through the chill of the wind, the close proximity allowed her to breathe in the scent of his cologne. If it even was cologne. It really just smelled wonderfully like soap and, well, him. Shifting so that she was just the _tiniest_ bit closer to him, she noticed that he had a large pair of headphones around his neck, half hidden by his upturned coat collar.

"Those are pretty nice headphones. What type of music do you like?" she asked, recognizing the observation as a perfect conversation opener.

"Classical." He answered instantly, "No other genre can compare to the thought, emotion and pure talent that goes into creating a beautiful composition. It is also quite diverse. There are soft sweet flute solos, poignant violins, and everything from crashing to gentle pianos notes!"

Elizaveta watched in amazement as Roderich grew increasingly animated, dropping his usual reserved atmosphere as he gestured with his free hand, extolling the virtues and accomplishments of his favourite composers. It was such a drastic difference compared to his stiff formality while working, she couldn't help laughing a little.

Distracted by her laughter, Roderich blushed and smiled, stopping mid sentence. "And of course- oh, my apologies. I tend to become a bit carried away when discussing my musical preferences. So few people appreciate the classics."

"No need to be sorry," she told him, "I enjoyed listening to you. I don't really know a lot of classical music; so much sounds the same to me."

"That's because you've only heard the most well-known pieces. You can't form an opinion based on such a small selection."

He looked adorably offended, and Elizaveta had to disguise a giggle by pretending to cough. She had the feeling he knew what had happened though, because his lips twitched upwards briefly in a wry looking smile. She hoped that it was a sign that he understood that her laughter had been directed at his expression and not his opinion.

Roderich raised an eyebrow at her, his amusement plain. "As much as I would like to make you listen to a few life-changing songs from my mp3 player, your bus should be here any minute. I suppose I will just have to burn you a disk instead."

She blushed deeply, realizing that they had been standing next to the stop for awhile, and let go of his arm. But her embarrassment was quickly forgotten when it occurred to her that Roderich has given her the perfect opportunity to see him again, _outside of work_, and all she had to do was take it. She clenched her hands, willing herself not to waste what could be her one and only chance. All she had to do was ask. He had to care about her a little. He'd gone out of his way to make sure she got home safe, and that had to mean something. The worst he could say was no. No wouldn't kill her. Just ask him, she yelled at herself, just ask him just ask him just ask him!

"Hey, Roderich, if you ever have time and are free did you maybe want to go for lunch maybe?"

"I would love to."

Having entirely anticipated a rejection, Elizaveta found she was speechless, and stared at him in shock. He just smiled at her, completely unaware that her mind was rapidly shutting down from trying to process that he, without a pause, had agreed to go out with her to lunch. How on earth did he manage to make it look so easy? She'd practically suffered a minor apoplexy just trying to say that garbled sentence and he didn't even have to _think_ about his response? Honestly, were all men so lucky?

Realizing that Roderich was waiting for her to say something, she hastily swallowed the lump in her throat, and tried to act normal.

"Th-that's fantastic. Do you have a place you like to go to? I don't mind anywhere, really, just as long as you don't mind it, but if you mind, then we wouldn't have to go, but um…" She trailed off, cursing herself for not having planned a reply in the event that he would say yes.

But luckily for her, he didn't seem to care that her rambling made absolutely no sense. He simply reached into his coat, and pulled out a little pad and a pencil. After writing a couple things down, he very neatly ripped the page out and handed it to her.

"That's the address of my favourite diner. I believe you would like it too." He paused, and folded her (numb) fingers over the paper so it wouldn't blow away. "I put my phone number there as well. You may send me a text message with what would be a good time and day for you, or you may call me."

Finding that her voice had given out on her again, Elizaveta settled for nodding, and hoped he could somehow tell how immeasurably happy she was. Thankfully, the bus arrived at that point, preventing an awkward silence and saving her from having to try and make any sort of conversation. She couldn't just leave though, so she gathered up all her courage as she stepped onto the bus, and turned to give him the brightest smile she possibly could.

"Thanks Roderich… Really."

"You're very welcome Eliza. I'll see you soon."

The doors closed, and she ran to the back, and waved at him from the window, not wanting the moment to end. He waved back, once, twice, and then was gone from view. She sank into a seat, and clutched the paper close to her heart, so happy she could barely breathe. It was a good thing she was wearing her steel-toed boots; the weight of them was probably the only thing preventing her from floating away! Without meaning to, she emitted a very audible squeak of delight.

Catching the only other passenger on the bus edging away from her with an odd look on his face, she blushed and pulled her hat down over her eyes, determined to sleep the rest of the ride and reserve any more outbursts for when she was safely at home. After all, she couldn't expect everyone else to understand the cause of her euphoria. She tucked the paper into the pocket inside her shirt, and settled down more comfortably. The ridge of the folded sheet rubbed against her chest, but she didn't mind. It was her proof that what had just happened wasn't a dream and that when she woke up, she would still have her (unofficial) date with Roderich.


	4. Chapter 4 Roderich

As he stacked boxes in the store room, Roderich couldn't help but sneak the occasional glance out the window. The delivery truck usually arrived around this time on the weekend, and he was really hoping he could see Eliza. It had been three days since she had asked him to lunch, and while they had already agreed upon a day and time via text messages, he wanted to verify with her in person.

He felt his cheeks warm just thinking about the walk that had prompted such an amazing series of events. His shyness had always made the thought of asking her to coffee something that inspired the urge to hyperventilate, yet thanks to her directness in broaching the subject, he now not only had a date with her, but her personal phone number even. (He knew that according to social custom he should have asked her for it, but he thought that if both parties were happy, it didn't matter who asked what.) Roderich looked up again, knowing he simply wanted to see her, regardless of if he had the chance to talk to her about their plans or not.

Catching sight of the familiar black vehicle pulling up to the curb, he placed the last of the boxes down with great deliberateness, purposely avoiding watching the door. He didn't want Eliza to think he had been waiting for her. She might take it the wrong way; think he was stalking her or some such nonsense. When the door opened, he immediately gave an affected start of surprise, and turned to greet her, smiling warmly.

"Eliz-aaaugh!"

There was nothing affected about his reaction to finding himself face to face with Gilbert.

"Nice to see you too, mister pretty boy," Gilbert replied smoothly, the sickeningly-sweet-and-friendly tone making Roderich's skin crawl. "We're gonna have us a nice little talk, me and you."

The auburn-haired young man couldn't fully restrain a nervous gulp, but had enough gumption to stand his ground. He was shy and often withdrawn, but he wasn't a coward. Or rather, he wasn't a complete coward when he could clearly imagine Eliza's disappointment in him if he let Gilbert push him around with resistance. If _she_ stood up to him, he would manage too.

So he steeled his nerve, and managed to look the larger man casually in the eye. "A talk? What could two people such as us have to talk about?"

"Like you don't know, you damn player. I don't know what game you're playing at, but we have to get something very f*cking clear: no one is allowed to yank 'Liz's chain in _any_ _way_ but me. You got that? If you hurt her, make her cry or quit her job, I swear to god I will serve you your own ass on a platter."

He had advanced slowly as he spoke, and the last threat was growled with alarming vehemence, his nose inches from the younger man's. To his credit, Roderich _tried_ to not visibly shake with fear.

Considering the amount of pure terror he felt, Roderich actually felt quite accomplished just for still being conscious. Gilbert at his best was disturbing; up close and angry he was downright sinister! Struggling to retain his calm, he held up a hand in a conciliatory gesture and was privately pleased to note he had gained enough control where he barely trembled.

"Your…suggestion is unnecessary. I have no intention of ever causing Eliza pain of any kind. I see no need to divulge matters of my private life or emotions to you, but you may be assured that I care for her most sincerely. I am also… surprised at your level of emotional investment. I was not aware you were so fond of her."

"Tch!" Gilbert made a noise of derision, and slouched casually on a box. "I'm not "fond" of 'Liz, I can barely stand her. She's manly as hell and packs one f*ck of a punch. But I respect her, and I like having a co-worker I can respect. It's hard to find anyone even near worthy of me, and if I lose that because of you, you're gonna regret for as long as live."

"You said something to that effect already," Roderich sighed, purposeful acting bored and arrogant to disguise his fear, "if you have nothing new to divulge, I would prefer that you left me to complete my work."

After a long pause, where he seemed to be considering if it would be worth it to take the matter further, Gilbert shrugged, and strolled out of the storeroom, seemingly content to let the other man get the last word.

Roderich watched him leave, and almost collapsed with relief, leaning against a shelf to steady himself. The entire encounter had left him with the distinct impression that Gilbert was much, much more dangerous than he let on.

But hopefully that side of him would never manifest in a way that could cause any harm to his co-worker; though, if his threats were to be taken seriously, he did care for Eliza, in a strange, selfish way. This really was not a bad thing at all. Because, in Roderich's opinion, there could be nothing wrong with making sure Eliza had as many people to look out for her as possible. Strength like hers often came from having no one to rely on, and though he wasn't exactly a pillar to cling to, Roderich planned to be there for her from now on. He planned to look after her as much as he could, even if it all that entailed was being there to hold her when no one else would.

He took off his glasses, and rubbed at his violet eyes. He hadn't even gone on a single date with the young woman, and yet he was already thinking about a future with her as his girlfriend. It wasn't _natural_ to like someone so much, he thought aggrievedly. You were supposed to start having feelings of such a high calibre after _months_ of exclusive romantic relations, weren't you? This was terrible. If Eliza could tell what he was thinking, she would probably think him the greatest of oddities. A vision of her when had she blushed and snuggled into his arm came to mind, and he smiled, remembering how happy she had been just from his offer to keep her steady.

Hmm. Maybe she wouldn't think he was strange after all.

Roderich went back to the front of the store to help customers with a sigh, willing his shift to be over as fast and painlessly as possible. It was hard enough to concentrate on serving people without the addition of remembering little things about her. It was distracting in the worst, and best, ways possible. It made it far easier to ignore the plethora of ignorant pastry-buyers, but it also made it far easier to cut himself by accident. He had several close calls with their long cake knife before his manager moved him to the till for his own safety.

The latest rush over, he wearily wiped the counter, clearing it of dust and smudges. He wondered if he ought to buy her flowers, or some other token for their outing tomorrow. Would she like a gesture like that, or would she find it too old-fashioned? Perhaps just paying for lunch would suffice. He was going to bring her that disk of classical music too, so it wasn't like he would be coming empty handed. Did it even matter on the first date? Roderich groaned silently. Why did starting relationships have to be so complicated?

The rest of his shift passed without incident, and Roderich was relived beyond belief to finally be able to leave. Or, at least he was until he saw _someone_ outside the door.

"Good grief!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation, "Don't tell me that you're here to lecture me about the appropriate way to act toward Eliza as well, West! One would think that I've spent my twenty-odd years leaving behind a trail of broken hearted, sobbing women the way you are all treating me!"

West, to his credit, at least had the decency to look embarrassed at Roderich's comment. He straightened the black tie of his gray-pinstriped suit, and smiled slightly, his unease apparent in his movements.

"Gilbert…demanded I talk to you." The taller man lapsed into silence briefly, once again adjusting his suit. "I know that you are a gentleman, Edelstein. I just thought to remind you that your shyness could be taken as disinterest. If you say the wrong thing, you could inadvertently hurt her, quite badly."

Roderich pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes and counted to ten silently. It was getting harder to treat these interferences with patience and dignity.

"I won't say the wrong thing." He finally said, "I _will_ make sure that she understands how important she is to me. I've put a lot of thought into this, and I feel confident that I can do it. And beside that, _oh dear lord_! Is that a _hickey_?"

Roderich's gaze had drifted to West's collar as he had spoken, and without meaning to he had blurted out his question when he had seen the red mark just above the other man's tie. He recoiled in horror, his brain supplying him with unwanted mental images. No no no! He didn't need to know about what had happened to cause that! He didn't need to even _think_ about what had happened to cause it!

Turning what could only be considered an unhealthy shade of red, West clapped a hand to his neck, covering the offending mark. "Ah…Well, I… stayed over at Gilbert's house the other night, and-"

"Please no! For the love of all things do not continue!" Roderich interrupted swiftly, hoping to stop the conversation before something irreversible happened. "I don't think I could handle the emotional scarring that would accompany the explanation for how you received that. It is bad enough that I already have an idea."

Both men looked at the ground, equally mortified. Neither of them really knew how to deal with such an embarrassing situation. They were both shyer than most men, and were only friends in a vague, customer-and-clerk way. West managed to recover first though, and tugged his collar over so that it kept most of his neck safely hidden. He had the idea that the best way to resolve the issue was to move past it as quickly as possible. Clearing his throat, he held out his hand, and when Roderich held out his, briskly shook it.

"My sincerest apologies for bothering you. Best of luck with Miss Hedervary."

"Don't worry about it. And thank you."

Roderich watched the other man walk away with a mixture of relief and trepidation. Hopefully no one else would see the need to warn him about hurting the girl's feelings. If he planned to cause her emotional discomfort, he would hardly have gone out of his way to walk her to a bus stop in the freezing cold. Nor would he regularly make himself available to help her carrying the supplies into the storeroom. Was it asking too much to want the other men in her life to see that?

He sniffed in contempt of their intelligence. He'd even bought a brand new shirt for their outing, but no one asked about _that_. And they should, because apart from that shirt, there were only two types of clothing in his closet: work clothes, and old, patched, around-the-house clothes. Buying something new was a good indication that he cared about how their romantically-inclined lunch would go.

But there was no point in fretting about it any further. He had to get home and get a decent sleep so he would be fresh and ready for tomorrow. Being late because he slept in would be a truly disastrous start to their relationship. Roderich began to relax, the trials of the day fading as his mind became occupied with positive thoughts regarding Eliza. And quietly humming Papageno and Papagena's duet from Mozart's Magic Flute, he walked back to his apartment.


	5. Chapter 5 The End

One fifty-seven. Same time as it had been when she'd checked ten seconds ago. Elizaveta clenched her hands in her green skirt, hunched her shoulders under her cream, cable-knit sweater, and _willed_ herself to not look at the time again.

It was a nice day, a bit chilly, but it had warmed enough where the snow had cleared from the sidewalks. It was still piled high in drifts along the road though, and she was grateful that she had opted to wear her knee-high boots rather than something fancy. She shivered, and glanced down at her watch yet again, unable to resist the temptation. One fifty-nine. Only one more minute until Roderich _should_ show up for their date.

Even after all that had happened, she was still harbouring the notion that he might change his mind and stand her up. It was just so hard to truly, whole-heartedly believe he cared about her. He was calm and handsome and talented and amazing. And she… she was a tomboy, awkward in a long green wool skirt that her friend Mr. Bonnefoy from the fourth floor had helped her pick out.

(He had been so delighted that she finally wanted to dress femininely that he'd cried tears of happiness for most of the trip through the department store and had then insisted on buying her both skirt and sweater. He'd also very nearly been removed from the store when he'd tried to _watch_ her try them on.)

She looked at the time, and her heart thudded painfully within her chest. She tried to squash her growing anxiety before it got out of hand. It was ten after two. He was late, or he wasn't coming. The waiting was killing her. If he didn't show up soon, she'd probably end up in the hospital from fainting under stress. Or end up going home and crying herself into next week. There was nothing worse than suffering this uncertainty, and she almost considered giving up.

But, she couldn't leave, even though her calls to his cell went unanswered. There was still the hope that he would still show up, or call back, or explain his lateness. And as long as there was that hope, she couldn't bear to go home. So she waited, and waited, and waited.

At two fifty-five, she felt the tears start, and even though she tried as hard as she could not to, she began to cry. She knew she had to look a like an idiot, sitting on a bench by the bus loop sobbing, but she couldn't help it. Her wonderful dream of a day to end all days hung around her in tatters and shreds. She obviously just wasn't good enough. She'd been fooling herself to think that someone like him could ever care about someone like her. Pulling the cuffs of her sleeves down over her hands, she buried her face in them to hide her tears. She'd never be able to look him in the face again.

But you can't cry forever, not even with a broken heart, and she eventually had to straighten up and fish a handkerchief out of her purse to blow her nose, and tried to stop sniffling. She knew she was tougher than this. Maybe if she bribed Gilbert he would do all the unloading for the _Topfenstrudel_ from now on. There was no way she'd be able to handle it. After the agony of being tossed aside faded, she'd probably break Roderich's nose.

Still wallowing in self-pity, and somewhat bloodthirsty thoughts, she didn't see the figure at the end of the street in the blue coat jogging toward her. She didn't see it wave at her frantically, or break into an all-out run. She didn't even hear it call her name, until it was practically in front of her.

"_Eliza_!"

He head snapped up, and she stared at the man she had been waiting for for almost an hour, the man she'd given up hope of seeing, in open-mouthed shock. "_Roderich_?" she choked out incredulously, "What, why are you-? You're late, I thought, you know…"

"I'm so sorry, I left my phone at home, and…I got lost. I'm really terrible with directions." When he looked at her, and saw the tear-tracks on her cheeks, he felt like a monster. Pulling out his own handkerchief, he gently wiped the last of her tears away. "You cried over this? Over me? Eliza, I am so very sorry. I get lost all the time, but this was the first time that it adversely affected someone else. I would have used a payphone, but I haven't memorized your number yet. I truly didn't mean to be late, and I didn't mean to hurt you. Can… can you ever forgive me?"

The sorrow in his eyes as he dabbed at her cheeks was too painful to be contrived, and she still liked him too much to not believe him. But all the same, it just didn't quite make sense…And then it occurred to her.

"If…If you get lost all the time, then how did you know exactly how to get to my bus stop a few days ago?"

Roderich froze, his mind scrambling for an excuse. He had forgotten that his past competence would make his current failure look suspicious. Of all the times for her to be perceptive, it just had to be now. He would have liked to lie, the truth made him sound like a fool, but after what he put her through, he figured she deserved the truth.

"I... I specifically memorized how to get to that stop. In the off chance that you would one day need to find your way home, I wanted to be able to… come to the rescue." He blushed, and looked down. "I wanted you to think I was capable."

Elizaveta couldn't believe her ears. Roderich had wanted to be her knight in shining armour? He had _memorized_ how to get to a certain bus just because she might one day need to get to it? She noticed him chewing his lip, and realized that he thought she would think less of him for admitting that he got lost so easily. He didn't realize that it actually made her love him all the more.

So she gently nudged his hand out of the way, and hesitantly, shyly hugged him. And when he wrapped his arms around her, she _felt_ him sigh in relief, and she knew that she'd made the right choice.

Pressing her face into his shirt collar, she relaxed against him, not wanting to lose the incredibly wonderful sensation of having him hold her. She never would have guessed that he had such difficulty expressing himself, that he would be so shy. She had assumed that all men would be as overbearing as Gilbert, straightforward as Mr. Bonnefoy, or even as blunt as West. It had never occurred to her that he might be as scared as she was about revealing how much the other person meant.

After a few more seconds, she reluctantly pulled away, not wanting to appear clingy. "Considering everything that's happened, do you want to skip lunch, and maybe just get a coffee?"

Roderich nodded in agreement, a relieved smile on his face, grateful that he had not irrevocably damaged her affection for him, if her hug had been anything to go by. He'd had his doubts about his chances when he'd seen that she had been crying, but it appeared that he had been fully forgiven. "I passed a quiet looking café when I came up this road. Would you like to try it?"

"Sure."

They started walking in the direction that Roderich had come from, Elizaveta leaving a bit of a gap between them as her shyness reasserted itself. Now that the emotional moment had passed, she was starting to feel awkward again. And as much as she desperately wanted to reach out and take his hand, she couldn't bring herself to be so forward; especially after all she had done already. So she settled for just 'accidently' bumping his hand with hers a couple times instead.

She almost squeaked out loud when Roderich, after the second time she brushed against him, linked their fingers together, and ever-so-gently swung their entwined hands.

Blushing happily, she tried to focus on watching for the café. But it was hard to keep her mind on track when she was walking down the street with Roderich, _and they were holding hands_! It was a good thing she'd decided against wearing gloves after all. And the jealous looks that some of the other girls were shooting her were gratifying, to say the least. Having fashionable, extremely pretty women envy _her_ for once boosted her confidence considerably.

The café Roderich had noticed was quiet indeed. Only one other person sat in a corner, fixated upon whatever they were writing on their laptop. But it was warm, and the almost-privacy only made it more inviting. Elizaveta settled into an over-large squashy armchair in the corner, and very nearly pouted when she had to let go of Roderich's hand so he could go get them their drinks. She knew she was being incredibly childish, but there was just something so comforting about holding hands with him.

Her good mood was instantly restored though, when he returned with their coffees and, instead of sitting across from her, sat next to her in the roomy armchair. While there was more than enough room for him to sit turned toward her without inconvenience, his choosing to be closer to her cheered her immensely.

Setting his empty cup down, (They'd been talking for well over an hour by that time) Roderich dug in his coat pocket and pulled out a thin, flat case and a box small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. He handed them to Elizaveta, smiling at her look of surprise.

"I did promise you a disk of some of my favourite classical songs. The other one is just a gift. I saw it the other day, and thought you would appreciate the variety."

Slightly puzzled, she opened the box, and broke into a grin when she saw what was inside. He'd gotten her a flower barrette. Slightly larger than her other one, it was more realistic looking, and better made. She lifted it out, and rubbed one of the silk petals between her fingertips. With the way the clip was placed, it would probably look like she was wearing a real flower.

In a moment of sudden daring, she held it out to him. "I can't put it on without a mirror. Would you do it for me?"

"I would be delighted to."

Taking the barrette from her, he shifted so that he was sitting closer to her, and gently slipped it into the lock of hair that framed her face. Snapping the clasp shut, he carefully rearranged the petals of the pink flower so they looked natural. Her hair was wonderfully soft, and he couldn't resist brushing it away from her face as an excuse to touch it again. Looking into her peridot-green eyes, he felt his heartbeat quicken, and he bent a little, bringing himself even nearer to her.

Elizaveta had nearly died of happiness when he had agreed to put the barrette in her hair, and had closed her eyes briefly when he'd tucked it behind her ear. When she'd opened them, she found him looking at her with an odd expression on his face. Anticipation mixed with nervousness, affection and possibly something more. When he moved closer to her, she felt her heart leap so high she expected blood to come out of her nose. If he planned to do what she thought he was going to, it would be the absolutely perfect end to the most wonderful day of her life.

"Eliza?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"May…May I kiss you?"

She almost laughed. Roderich truly was a gentleman to the last. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, and tilted her head up slightly. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she obligingly snuggled into him. When he cupped her cheek in his palm, she closed her eyes again, unsure what else to do. And when he timidly pressed his lips to hers, she practically melted, and had to wrap her hands around the back of his neck to stay upright.

Yes, yes yes. This was what she had been waiting, hoping, _wishing_ would happen for almost an entire year. Nothing else in the entire universe mattered at that moment. All that mattered was that Roderich was kissing her, with increasing confidence, and that she was kissing him back. She didn't care if it was the apocalypse; the rest of the world could damn well wait until this was done.

Roderich broke the kiss after a little while, his glasses slightly fogged up. Unable to put what he was feeling into words, he pulled her into a tight embrace, and simply held her close. Elizaveta returned the embrace fiercely for a moment, before leaning back, and taking his glasses from his nose. Giggling, she rubbed them clean on her sleeve and returned them to him. In return, he fixed her barrette, which had been knocked askew, with a soft chuckle.

They passed a few minutes cuddling in a comfortable silence, until the barista came over and, apologetically, informed them that the café was closing for the night. So they gathered their things and went out into the street, heading back toward the bus station.

"It's gotten so dark," Elizaveta observed in surprise, "I can't believe we spent that much time in there."

"It does seem like we barely sat down. But, then again, we were preoccupied."

Laughing, and blushing, at his choice of description for what they were doing, she tugged at his hand, leading him onto the right street before he could turn the wrong way. Roderich blinked, and then blushed himself when he realized that she'd saved him from getting lost again.

"So, which bus do you need to take to get home, Roderich?"

"I'm not sure." he shrugged, "I actually planned to see you to your door before I tried to find my own way home."

Elizaveta shook her head. "No, that's fine; you don't have to do that."

"Eliza, please, I insist."

"Well…" she chewed at her bottom lip thoughtfully, and decided she could always draw him a map if needed. Not only that, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that said he wouldn't take no for an answer. "Alright. If you _insist_."

"I do."

They climbed onto the bus she usually took to get home, and managed to find two seats side by side near the middle. Slightly squashed in between the other passengers, they instinctively moved closer to each other, Roderich putting an arm around her waist, Elizaveta resting her head on his shoulder. Stifling a yawn, she closed her eyes.

"If I fall asleep, our stop is by the number six crossroad."

"Duly noted." He told her, an amused smile on his face. "I'll make sure that I stay alert for it."

It turned out to be a good thing that he did, because Elizaveta _did_ fall asleep, the emotional strain of the day finally taking its toll. Waking her when it was their time to get off, Roderich hid a smile at the adorable way she rubbed at her eyes, looking cuter than he had ever seen her.

Sleepily making her way back to her apartment, Elizaveta was grateful to have someone to lean on. She was completely exhausted. It was a good thing that she wasn't working in the morning, or she'd probably end up dropping something on herself. Stopping in front of her door, she fumbled in her purse for her key. When she missed getting it into the lock, Roderich gently took it from her and unlocked the door himself.

Once he got her inside, he shut the door, and proceeded to help her get settled in. It had never occurred to him that she would be so tired that she would have trouble walking. He was fairly worn out himself, but he was still functional. Then again, he hadn't had a slight emotional breakdown like she had.

Leaving her in her room to change, Roderich busied himself in her kitchen, making a cup of chamomile tea to help her relax and sleep better. Not that she really seemed to need it, but a cup of tea before bed was always nice. As soon as he finished, he knocked on her bedroom door.

"I have some chamomile for you. May I come in?"

He opened the door at her muffled confirmation that he could, and smiled to see her sitting on her bed in her pyjamas, her hair loose and mussed. Putting the cup down on her night table, he kissed her on the forehead.

"Drink it while it's still hot, it's better for you that way." He kissed her gently, and turned to leave. "Take care, and have a good sleep, Eliza, I'll show myself out now." But he was only able to take one step toward the door before he was halted by her hand on his wrist.

Blushing deeply, and barely able to look him in the eye, she took his hand and pressed it to her cheek.

"Stay."

"P-Pardon?"

It took several long minutes for her to explain exactly what she meant, considering it contained a great deal of blushing and stuttering, but when it was clear, he was more than happy to oblige.

Rather than trying to get home and possibly getting lost, she had asked him to consider the option of staying the night with her. She had said that she would worry too much to get a decent sleep otherwise. And so, wearing nothing but one of her t-shirts and his boxers, Roderich curled up next to her. The fact that she was more than willing to let him stay the night in her apartment, _in her bed_ no less, bespoke volumes about the amount of trust she had in him.

Roderich had absolutely no intention of betraying that trust either. (It failed to occur to him that she was more than capable of beating him to a pulp if he tried anything.) He idly wound a piece of her hair around his finger, enjoying both its silky softness, and the way it made Elizaveta snuggle all the more securely into his chest. There would be more than enough time for them to take their relationship to that level anyway, because he had no intention of ever losing what he had gained that day.

And even though he didn't know it yet, she had no intention of losing him either.

**The End.**

**(I may write a small epilogue, but other than that, this is all, folks~ Thanks for reading)**


	6. Chapter 6 Epilogue

Elizaveta woke up feeling unusually groggy, and unusually _comfortable_. She normally woke up half frozen, or in some sort of awkward, muscle-cramp inducing position. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she tried to sit up, only to find that she was held firmly in place by an _arm_. Oh dear lord. There was someone in her bed!

After suffering a brief, mild panic attack, she remembered that she'd invited Roderich to stay the night with her, which would explain both the arm, and why her bed was way more comfortable than she could ever recall. But no matter how much she would like to laze the day away with him, she had to get up and get ready for work. She'd already slept in more than an hour past the usual time she got up.

With great reluctance, she slid out of bed, doing her best not to wake him up. He'd mentioned having the next two days off, so she saw no reason why he should have to lose out on sleeping in just because she had to.

But trying to cook while exhausted isn't the quietest activity in the world, and it wasn't long before Roderich emerged from her bedroom, looking a little bit like a zombie. His hair was sticking out at all angles, and he seemed to be lacking normal coordination abilities. He looked around her kitchen blearily, seemingly unaware he wasn't wearing his glasses.

"Coffee?"

He nodded aimlessly, before focusing on her sink. "Ah. Excuse me one moment."

Elizaveta wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but it definitely wasn't for him to stick his head under the cold water tap. Highly amused, she stuck a towel in his hand, before returning to cooking breakfast. She added a couple extra eggs to the pan, since she had the feeling Roderich was probably going to be hungry once he came to terms with the fact that he was awake.

Finger-combing his wet unruly hair into something a little more presentable, he murmured his thanks when Elizaveta handed him a cup of extraordinarily strong looking coffee. Sipping it, he grimaced. He must look worse than he thought if she was giving him something that potent. Unwilling to stay underfoot while she was trying to cook, he went into her little living room and sat on the couch, continuing to sip from his cup.

Elizaveta was just finishing off cooking the omelette when she heard the familiar, and ominous, roaring of the delivery trucks engine. She'd forgotten that Gilbert picked her up from home on Mondays! She unceremoniously shoved the frying pan into the sink, and ran for the door. She had to make sure that he didn't know that Roderich was there!

Three steps from assuring their skins retained intact, the door opened with a bang, and she almost went straight into the arms of Mr. Bonnefoy.

"Eliiiizaaaaaveeetaaaaaa~! Darling, your ride is here! You really should lock your apartment sweetheart, not everyone is as nice as me~."

The stylish, blond haired man who lived a floor above her (and was friends with Gilbert), blinked in surprise at her look of horror, and took a step toward her.

"Elizaveta, are you alright dearest? You look awful; did you have another tiff with that brutish driver? I can talk to him if you'd like, my pet."

It was unfortunately at that point that Mr. Bonnefoy noticed Roderich. One look at the sleepy, wet haired man sitting on Elizaveta's couch in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt was all the older man needed, and he shot out of the apartment at top speed.

Literally seconds later, they could hear his voice echoing down the hall as he shouted through an open window.

"GIIILLL, THERE'S A PARTIALLY-DRESSED YOUNG MAN IN YOUR CO-WORKERS APARTMENT, AND BOTH OF THEM LOOK LIKE THEY DIDN'T GET MUCH SLEEP~"

Swearing, Elizaveta slammed the door shut, locking the deadbolt. Frantically, she raced to her room and grabbed Roderich's clothes, and quickly dumped them on his lap. "Hurry and put those on," she told him, ignoring his stammering questions about what exactly Mr. Bonnefoy had meant, "Gilbert is going to murder you if we can't explain to him what happened first!"

Roderich remembered the look that the white-haired man had given him in the storeroom when he'd threatened him not to mess with Elizaveta's feelings, and scrambled to get dressed.

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

"'Liz! Open this door right this goddamn minute you hear me? You can't hide him in there all morning! Rod, you asshole! Get out here and face me like a man you coward!"

Elizaveta couldn't blame Roderich for paling as Gilbert swore and hammered at the door. She found him pretty unnerving herself, and she wasn't the one he was planning to kill. Still, she knew how to handle him, and she went to the kitchen and retrieved her favourite frying pan from the cupboard. Standing to the right of the entrance with her feet well-braced, she snapped her fingers at Roderich to get his attention, and mimed opening the door.

Understanding what she meant perfectly, the young man leaped to his feet and positioned himself to the left, just out of the way. With his hand on the knob, he waited for her signal.

Elizaveta gripped her pan tightly, and gave a single nod. He yanked the door open as fast as he could, and Gilbert stumbled inside.

_WHHHHHDNNNG_!

Gilbert, whose thoughts had previously been focused on potentially mangling Roderich, found himself instead preoccupied with the intense pain radiating from his nose, as his face made acquaintances with Elizaveta's frying pan.

Rolling around on her floor in over-dramatic agony, he moaned and whined and generally made a spectacle of himself. Sitting up, he indignantly pointed at his co-worker, who was trying to not laugh at is antics. (Mr. Bonnefoy had no qualms about it however, and was bent double in the hallway from the force of his guffaws.)

"'Liz! You made me bleed, dammit! Me! You made the amazing me _bleed_! That's a crime!"

"It was in self-defence, jackass, and you ran straight into it. Besides, I had to keep you from disembowelling my boyfriend before we had a chance to explain."

And before he could start up again, she sat down on the floor next to him, and explained the entire thing, from start to finish. (Although she omitted that she'd cried when it had looked like she'd been stood up).

After explaining it twice more, _slowly_, Gilbert was finally convinced that Roderich was indeed a gentleman, that Elizaveta had not been violated in any way, and that since the aforementioned were now a couple, he was to be civil to Roderich at all possible times. Once he had agreed that he would no longer try to murder the younger man without explicit proof, Elizaveta let him up off the floor, and got the first aid kit to fix his nose. They both knew the kit was unnecessary, but being attended to helped soothe his wounded ego.

The drama over with, the four of them sat in her living room sharing the omelette she'd made earlier. Eventually, she noticed Gilbert smirking. Since that usually was evidence of plotting, she poked him with the handle of her fork, and demanded he speak up.

"Well," he said with a devilish glint in his eye, "now that you and Roddy are together and everything, you guys should double date with me and West."

Elizaveta wrinkled her nose, and lightly smacked him upside the head. "No way. Why on earth would we want to double with you two?"

"Aw, come on 'Liz! There's a really great XXX show on downtown tomorrow. And since you're okay with being in the same bed as Roddy, we could save money on sharing a hotel room afterward, and I even could teach your princess a thing or t-"

_Wham_!

To be fair, Gilbert couldn't be blamed for never seeing the punch coming. After all, no one had expected _Roderich_ to be the one to hit him.

And so, as Gilbert rolled around on the floor yet again, hollering about his newly-bloodied nose, Elizaveta wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and kissed him thoroughly.

"Now _that's_ my man."

**The End**

**(again**)


End file.
